


new beginnings

by kinos



Category: Pentagon (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Elementary School, M/M, single dad!shinwon, teacher!changgu
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-27
Updated: 2019-04-02
Packaged: 2019-12-25 12:46:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18261584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinos/pseuds/kinos
Summary: So, Changgu clings to those tiny miracles, those wonderful new beginnings. He cherishes the first stream of morning light through his window, the fresh scent of lilies in the new season, the familiar ring of the bell that marks the start of another school year, and yet another new beginning.





	1. new miracles

**Author's Note:**

> [cue dramatic music] ...i have returned
> 
> for those who didn't see my tweets, in honour of changgu's birthday and pentagon's comeback, i'm finally back with another fic!!! i've been working on this story for a long.. LONG... time and i feel like it's time for me to share it with you all hehe :D i'm ngl i'm sooo nervous about posting this bc 1) i've been away for quite a while and i have no idea what the ptg ficdom scene is like at the moment and 2) i think this story is a little different from what i usually write so i'm not sure how you guys will take it...? but it's a story that i've always wanted to try out and for the -5 shinoneists out there, i just Had To !
> 
> A HEADS UP... i basically already spoiled the ending of this first chap by tagging the main ship but just pretend y'all are surprised when it comes ok and i'll be updating tags on the other ships when they decide to show up but if you know me, you'll be able to guess them already ha ha ha...
> 
> and ANOTHER DISCLAIMER... the cube chicks and some idle girlies play parts in this, so for those who aren't fans of them then.. idk i'm sorry i guess? and for those who ARE fans of them, i'm sorry if they seem ooc bc while i do love them, i wouldn't say i know them very well and pretty much just wrote them to fit their characters so...
> 
> as always, i can't promise when updates will be because unfortunately i am still stuck in the middle of this degree that will probably be useless but i'll try my best to post as often as i can!
> 
> anyway !! it's good to be back and i hope you all enjoy this and here's to a new beginning!! <3

New beginnings were something Changgu always looked forward to, be it the dawn of a brand new day, the first blooming flower of springtime, or the start of another school year.

He had hated that last one growing up, completely despised the idea of going back to school, back to endless homework and scratchy uniforms, after an entire break of freedom. Now, it wasn’t exactly _school_ that he disliked, because if he did, then he wouldn’t have gone through the three long years that led him to where he is now; a tie around his neck, thirty kids under his wing and he’s only twenty-five.

“You’re a teacher, Changgu, not a father of thirty.”

“Shut up, Hongseok.”

So, _yes,_ Changgu liked school a lot more than he’d ever care to admit, enough for him to pursue a career in education, to put himself in the shoes of the teachers that he’d looked up (or, down, once he’d started growing tall enough) to all his life. He liked school, he _still_ likes school, but back then, the beginning of school meant the end of break, and well, he just didn’t like endings.

Sure, everything comes to an end; vacations, relationships, life, even that reality show he’s been binge-watching for the past week and a half — Changgu knows that. But it’s much nicer to just pretend that that little fact doesn’t exist, to stay in ignorant bliss, to live in the here and now.

“You’re really not going to watch the finale of Heart Signal just because you don’t want it to end?”

“Shut _up,_ Hongseok.”

Changgu thinks he’s done a pretty good job at living in the here and now, or maybe, more likely, _most likely,_ he’s just been going through the motions for the past two and a half decades.

If someone asked, he’d say he’s had a fairly decent life, no tragedies, no broken hearts, no sob stories to be spilled to a stranger when he’s had a bit too much to drink. Which is a good thing, he supposes, but his life hasn’t been particularly eventful either, no adventures, no wild nights, no epic love tale to be told to his grandchildren when he’s old and grey.

And he knows, of course he knows, that the path he’s chosen doesn’t quite give him an opportunity for some phenomenal life-changing event or anything, because there’s only so much that can happen in a little classroom, but a man can dream, can’t he?

So, Changgu clings to those tiny miracles, those wonderful new beginnings. He cherishes the first stream of morning light through his window, the fresh scent of lilies in the new season, the familiar ring of the bell that marks the start of another school year, and yet another new beginning.

“That's my cue!” Changgu downs the last drop of his coffee, tossing the paper cup into the trash, pumping up a triumphant fist when it makes a perfect landing. He turns to his friends, eyes sparked with pride. “My kids are third-graders this year.”

“You moved up?” Hwitaek asks, his own drink still warming in his hands. “I didn't know you could do that.”

Changgu’s only been working at the school for two short years, but it’s been long enough to know that it’s uncommon for a first or second grade teacher to be assigned to a class any higher than that, simply because the learning content for the first two years were different from the years that came after. But he’d already followed his class through their first grade, their second, and now, the school board has decided that he’d take them to third grade too.

“The school wants me to stick with my class,” Changgu explains, and to remind him, “That’s why I took those extra courses over the break, remember?”

Changgu likes to think the change was swayed by the fact that he’d done well with the children so far, that they’d grown fond enough of him to want him to teach them for another year. And really, he’d be more than happy to stay with them, even until the day they walk out the doors of this school for good, if that’s what they want, because no matter what anyone says, these _are_ his kids.

They’re his pride and joy, proof that becoming a teacher was the right move for him, despite all the back and forth with his parents about how he should’ve pursued something more professional, something with a better chance of employment. And he must’ve hit some kind of lucky strike, or maybe it was something he’d done right in a past life, because straight out of graduation, Changgu not only managed to score a teaching gig at the closest elementary school near home, but he’d also been placed in a class of the brightest bunch of students he could ever ask for.

“Well, good luck with that,” Hongseok says, his own cup being sent to the trash with much less grace than Changgu, feigning a shudder when he looks at him. “They start becoming nightmares once they hit the double-digits.”

Unlike Changgu, Hongseok only teaches kids aged ten and over, because his specialised subjects only come into play from the third grade onwards; English, Mandarin, PE when they’re short of staff.

“I’ve got the sixth-graders in the gym for first period,” Hongseok sighs, already tired and the day’s barely begun. “I should head over before they start throwing volleyballs at each other.”

It only seems to occur to Hwitaek then that they’re both heading out, scrambling to sit up straighter in his chair. “Wait, babe, you’re leaving too?”

Hongseok flashes a cheeky grin at him. “The real teachers have to go to work now, honey.”

Just as he’s going, he presses a quick kiss to Hwitaek’s lips as a goodbye, catching him by surprise, and he hurries out of the break room before he can get smacked for the unnecessary PDA.

“I am a real teacher,” Hwitaek grumbles to himself, even though he knows that he isn’t, not exactly, and maybe he’s just saying it to pretend that he isn’t blushing. Then, to Changgu, “Why did I marry him?”

Changgu only offers a shrug. “You tell me, hyung.”

There’s another bell, a warning for latecomers and dallying teachers, and Changgu calls out a, “Gotta go! See you at lunch!” before he gathers his things, just barely missing a door in his face as he runs out.

The third grade classes are a little further than what he’s used to, just far enough to force him to catch his breath before he heads inside, but the wind is knocked right out of him again as soon as he opens the door.

“Whoa, hey-” Changgu wheezes out a laugh as tiny bodies slam into him, circling his arms around the children to steady them before they all topple over. “You guys missed me or something?”

There’s a muffled response, or, well, _three,_ and Changgu has to say, “Why don’t we all take a step back before we talk, huh?”

The kids are quick to react, unlatching themselves from him calmly, but there’s only a split second of silence before they burst into conversation again, his three best students speaking over each other in a mess of pitched tones and incoherent sentences.

Changgu lets them see whose voice can go the highest for a moment or two longer, before the rest of the class starts giving him pleading looks to shut them up, and he holds up a hand.

“Ah-” They go still, stop talking, look up at him so slowly that he would’ve thought they didn’t move at all, and Changgu points a finger to the boy in the middle. “Kuanlin first.”

For someone who was so eager to speak just earlier, Kuanlin takes the time to stick his tongue out at the other two before he answers Changgu.

“Of course we missed you, ssaem,” he starts, and despite all their squabbling a second ago, the two girls by his side nod in absolute agreement. “We missed you even more than usual because we didn’t think you’d be teaching us anymore this year, but-”

“ _But,_ I tried to tell them that you’d definitely come back to teach us,” Yuqi chips in, interrupting her brother and taking a step forward in an attempt to look bigger than she is. “And I was right!”

Kuanlin makes a face at that, clearly unimpressed by her correct guess, and Changgu would have laughed if not for Shuhua saying, “Yuqi even bet her lunch on it, you know.”

The smallest of the three gapes at Shuhua, as if she can’t believe her own best friend sold her out like that, her mouth already open to make a fuss, but Changgu beats her to it.

“Yuqi…” Changgu fixes a steady glare on her, trying his best to seem the least bit intimidating, but there’s no heat behind his eyes and they all know it. “What did I tell you about putting bets on your food?”

“Well, I-”

“You know, you’ll go hungry one day if you keep that up.”

“But _ssaem-_ ”

“And you can’t say that you’re always gonna be right, because remember that time-”

Yuqi stretches up on her tiptoes to clamp her hands over Changgu’s mouth, cutting him off before he can recount the embarrassing story of how she’d lost an entire lunchbox to Kuanlin and Shuhua simply because she bet that she could carry someone three times her size, and her pride wouldn’t allow her to back out of the wager.

Changgu had found her moping in the playground with an empty stomach and an aching back after the other two came whining to him about how Yuqi refused to take her food back or at least share it with them.

“I only did it because I knew I’d be right this time!” Yuqi reasons, pulling her hands away, a familiar huff in her voice that only comes around when she knows she’s about to win an argument. “I knew you’d stay with us, ssaem.”

And Changgu caves, he always caves when it comes to her, a defeated smile spreading on his face when he says, “Well, thanks for believing in me, Yuqi-ya.” He playfully nudges his knuckles against the heads of the other two. “Can’t say the same for you guys, I guess.”

Before they can start groaning about how Yuqi is _such_ a teacher’s pet and how Changgu _always_ favours her, Changgu laughs, waving a hand at them. “No, I’m just kidding. You know you kids are the reason the school let me take on your class again.” He turns to face the classroom, the rest of his students, and his smile brightens. “All of you.”

There’s a round of fake-booing, and he thinks he hears Shuhua say, “You’re such a sap, ssaem!” but the matching grins on each and every face that stares back at him tells him that they’re all just as pleased that he’s been given a chance at another year with them.

“How have you all been then?” Changgu asks once they’ve settled down, perching on the edge of his table comfortably, any sense of time disappearing now that class has begun.

Being their homeroom teacher allows him the luxury of taking his time with their classes, adjusting them as he pleases, as long as he manages to cover all their learning content for the day in one way or another. Apart from the specialised subjects that require external teachers like Hongseok, the rest of their lessons are taught by Changgu alone, from Korean to Math and Science to even Social Studies. And so, whenever he can, he finds time to squeeze in these little chit-chat sessions and the occasional free period where he lets the kids do as they like, indulging them in whatever games they decide to play.

He’s learnt that it’s those moments that help him get to know his kids better, and them him. It’s probably the biggest reason he’s cultivated such a good relationship with his students, and he isn’t going to stop now.

“Good!” comes the chorused answer from his class, and the children take turns telling him about what they’d been up to over the holidays, about their vacations and their ventures, some all the way across the world, some right here in the town they call home.

Changgu listens well, listens to every single story they share, and he envies them, really. He envies how young they are, how they have their whole lives ahead of them, how they’ve still got a million more new beginnings to come, and they don’t even know it.

He isn’t bitter, not really, not enough to go crying about it to his mother over the phone, because he’d already done that once and all he had to show for it was a disastrous blind date with a daughter of a neighbor of a friend or something like that. He’s definitely not trusting his mother to set him up again. And he knows that he doesn’t have _that_ many years on his life yet, that he’s still got so much time to find his great moment, but…

Maybe Changgu is a little bitter, maybe he’s a bit impatient too, and maybe, just maybe, he wants a miracle to walk into his life today.

—

“Come on, come on, come on.” Hyojong tugs on the small hands in each of his own, an equally as tiny pair of arms wrapped tight around his neck as he runs towards the daycare centre. “We’re almost there, kids.”

Their little legs do their best to keep up, the child on his back struggling to stay where he is, swaying to and fro, and by the time Hyojong makes it to the front door, he’s already slipping off and-

“Got you!”

The boy almost screams as he’s caught in someone’s arms, ready to scratch the eyes out of this stranger, but- “Oh! Hyunggu-hyung!”

Hyunggu grins down at the child, and he gets as far as, “Hi, Cheol-” before the two girls on Hyojong’s arms abandon him to tackle Hyunggu to the ground, screeching out, “Hyunggu-oppa!”

They land in a jumble of bright coats and excited giggles on the floor, Hyunggu completely crushed by the triplets, and he’s halfway to coughing up a lung when he says, “Good to see you too, kiddos.”

“Thank God you’re here,” Hyojong says, and he doesn’t even seem fazed that his own children had chosen Hyunggu over him, already used to it by now. Then, with a raised brow, “I thought you said you weren’t coming back to work this year.”

“Needed the money,” is Hyunggu’s simple answer, because all that he’d gathered from his first year of university was that being a college student is sad, but being a college student with no money is just pathetic _and_ it’s a pain in the ass. He sits up, gathering the three kids into his lap as best as he can manage, trapping them in a hug to say, “And I’d miss you guys too much if I didn’t come back.”

Hyojong’s got a trace of a fond smile on his lips as he watches the scene, forcing it away before Hyunggu can tease him for it, and he asks, “So, like usual?”

“Like usual,” Hyunggu echoes, putting up a hand in mock-salute to show Hyojong that he knows what he’s doing. “I’ll bring them by after school.”

Hyojong’s thank you is cut off by the faded sound of a bell, biting down on his lip as it rings out. “Shit- I mean, _shoot._ Shoot. I was supposed to clock in a half hour before that bell and it’s only the first day and-”

“ _Go,_ ” Hyunggu interrupts, shooing him away lazily, mustering up his best smile, and he holds the children closer in his arms. “We’ll be fine here, hyung. Don’t worry about us.”

Trusting Hyunggu’s words, and the fact that he’s been looking after the kids for over a year now, Hyojong decides it’s time to leave and he hops over to plant a kiss on each of the triplets’ foreheads, flicking Hyunggu’s own when the younger says, “No kiss for me?”

Once Hyojong manages to drag himself to the gate without crawling right back, Hyunggu picks up Younghee and Nari’s hands, using them to wave at Hyojong. “Say bye to Daddy.”

“Bye Daddy!” the triplets sing, Cheolsu jumping up to wave both his arms at his father, and even though Hyojong has been sending his kids off to daycare since they were three, he still has to blink back tears when he calls out, “Bye babies!”

He forces himself to turn away before he bursts into a crying fit for real, because that would be embarrassing, and he really, really, _really_ can’t afford to waste anymore time, practically kicking up dust as he races to the school.

Hyojong makes it through the double doors just as the warning bell hits, and he’s lucky that the daycare centre is set up right next to the school’s main building, because he isn’t getting any younger and his heart might’ve given out if he had to run any further today. He still has to clock in at the office on the other side of the place though, so he sucks in a long breath, shakes out his legs, and-

“Oof!”

His running start is cut short by a body slamming into his, the sudden impact sending them both to the ground, and Hyojong would’ve been more concerned about the dull ache in his skull and the poor person he’d crashed into, if not for the fact that he might lose his job if he doesn’t get to the office right away.

The school board understands his situation well enough, and they give him far more leeway than most teachers get around here, but even the most considerate person wouldn’t quite appreciate Hyojong’s lack of punctuality, especially on the first day of school.

“I’m sorry!” Hyojong calls out, scrabbling to get to his feet. He doesn’t even get a chance to spare the person another glance, his legs already carrying him down the hallway, and he prays that a miracle will let him keep his job today.

—

Jinho watches as an unfamiliar head of blond hair disappears around the corner, wondering if that had actually happened or if he’d just tripped himself and started seeing things from the fall.

He’s still dizzy as he makes his way to the teachers’ break room, just barely catching a blur of Changgu zooming past him, and he’s suddenly grateful that he doesn’t have a class lined up for first period.

“Morning,” Hwitaek greets Jinho as he takes a seat, pouring out a cup of coffee for him, then- “What’s up with you? Did something happen?”

Jinho shakes his head, accepting the drink with a thanks, and all he says is, “It’s nothing. Just bumped into someone who was rushing in the hallway.”

Nothing but a dismissive nod in answer tells Jinho that Hwitaek doesn’t think anything of it, and really, he shouldn’t either, because it isn’t a big deal, not at all, but curiosity scratches at him, and before he can will it away, he hears himself ask, “Do you know anyone with blond hair?”

That gets him a rather flat look in response, and _okay,_ Jinho had that one coming. He quirks an apologetic smile at his friend, clarifying himself with, “I mean, someone who works here, maybe.”

It’s a long shot, because for all he knows, it might’ve been a parent who had forgotten to pack their kid’s lunch, or maybe it was just some visitor on school business. But Jinho thinks back to the glimpse of the stranger that he’d seen in the collision, and he could’ve _sworn_ that there was a name tag pinned to their shirt, the same type of tag that was given to him and Hwitaek too.

“Blond, blond, blond-” Hwitaek taps his finger against his chin as he thinks, then- “Ah! You mean Hyojong?”

Jinho shrugs, the name not ringing a bell, no face to put to it either, and Hwitaek hums, adding, “Bit taller than me, skinny, probably dressed like he’s going to bed?”

“I think that’s the one,” Jinho says, flashes of a hoodie and sweatpants in the back of his mind, and he has to bite down a stupid smile that came out of nowhere. “Who is he?”

“Art teacher,” is Hwitaek’s answer. “Teaches the older kids mostly, and I think he does dance classes after school sometimes too.”

Jinho nods in acknowledgement, and he should just leave it at that, because there’s no need to know anything more, but he finds himself asking, “Is he new?”

“New?” Hwitaek almost laughs, brow furrowing in what Jinho reads as disbelief. “No way. He’s been teaching here since the start of last year.”

An entire year here already, and today was the first time Jinho’s ever seen him. _Huh._ That just didn’t make sense.

“How come I’ve never seen him before?” Jinho asks then, careful to keep his tone casual, cool, not wanting to come off as some kind of busybody.

Hwitaek seems to take a moment to consider an appropriate answer for him, mouth pursing in thought, before he settles for, “Well, I wouldn’t say he’s a substitute teacher, but… The school gives him flexible hours, is what it is. He comes in when he can, hands over his classes to someone else when he can’t, and you’ve probably never seen him because he hardly sticks around whenever he’s not needed here.”

Before Jinho can even ask what the hell that’s about, before he can feel envious over the lax schedule that he’ll definitely never get for himself, Hwitaek says, “I mean, you can’t really blame him. The guy’s got three 4-year olds, so-”

“ _Three?_ ”

“Uh-huh. Triplets.”

Jinho has half a mind not to let his jaw drop, keeping his shock to himself, because _triplets?_ Here he was, thinking he might’ve found a new interest, a new person to pine for, but there’s no way he’s going after someone with not one, but _three_ children.

Like he said, long shot.

“Well, nice Q&A session, but I’ve gotta go now,” Hwitaek says then, pulling Jinho back to the sad present where all he has is in his life is lukewarm coffee and back-to-back classes set up after recess.

“Go where?” Jinho questions, looking confused as Hwitaek gets up to dust his pants off. “You’re a guidance counsellor. You don’t have classes to teach.”

Hwitaek turns his nose up at that, the second time today he’s been ridiculed for his job, and there’s a scoff in his tone when he says, “Well, I’ve got a new nurse coming in today, that’s where.”

He doesn’t even wait for Jinho’s reply as he stalks out of the room, taking the long way around to the nurse’s office, and as soon as he barges through the doors, he practically collapses onto the bed that’s way too small to fit him.

“You know that’s for the kids, right?” Yanan says, seemingly concerned but his disinterest is clear in his half-hearted sigh, his lazy expression, and the fact that he doesn’t bother pushing Hwitaek off, unmoving where he’s leaned up against the wall.

Hwitaek ignores him, face buried in the oddly sterile scent of the pillow, and his words come out mumbled when he asks, “Is it really that lame to be a guidance counsellor?”

“Not as lame as being a school nurse,” Yanan huffs, kicking off of the wall to pull Hwitaek into a sitting position, and Hwitaek should’ve expected the sour look on the younger’s face when he finally looks up at him. “I didn’t work my ass off for three years just to end up stuck _here,_ tending to little ouchies and boo-boos, hyung.”

Hwitaek is quiet for a while, partly because Yanan’s stare is deathly, but also- “You know, I can’t take you seriously when you say ‘boo-boos’ so cutely, Yananie.”

“ _Hyung._ ”

“Okay, okay!” Hwitaek throws his arms up in surrender before his hands settle onto Yanan’s shoulders, giving him a look that Hongseok would call his ‘dad face’ and he says, “Look, I know it’s not ideal, I know it’s not what you had in mind, but you said it yourself, jobs are tough to find nowadays and if you really didn’t want to take it, you wouldn’t have sat through that entire nurses’ course for your certification.”

It’s Yanan’s turn to be silent, because he knows that Hwitaek is right, that it’d be a waste to quit now after all he’d done to get this stupid job, and they both know he doesn’t actually mean it when he grumbles out, “I had no choice.”

“Yeah, well, it’s your job now,” Hwitaek says, patting his back once, offering a grin that’s far too optimistic for someone who had little to no faith in his own career. “So just do your best, and who knows? You might learn to like it. You might even have fun.”

Yanan isn’t convinced, not one bit, because what could be fun about being trapped in a room full of tools that he doesn’t even know how to use? All he’d ever be able to do is put a bandage over a paper cut, and even then, he can’t guarantee that he’d do it right. He’d probably break more bones than he could fix.

His eyes flicker up to the white ceiling, only to roll back once he realises he truly is stuck here now, and he murmurs to himself, “Unless some kind of miracle falls out of the sky today, I highly doubt that.”

—

Wooseok hears the ring of his alarm, once, twice, three times and no one’s switched it off yet. His arm reaches out for his blaring phone, he’d left it somewhere on his bedside table, he’s sure, but-

He groans when he hits the ground, arms barely bracing his fall, and he hates that his bed is so high off of the floor, because he’ll admit, it isn’t the first time he’s fallen out of it and if he keeps at it, he’ll end up with bruised limbs _and_ a bruised ego to match.

“Yuto,” Wooseok calls out as he crawls over to shut his phone up, voice still groggy with sleep, but it’s loud enough that he gets a grunt from his roommate in response. “Yuto, get up. It’s the first day of school.”

He throws a pillow across their shared room, and it lands nowhere near Yuto, but the effort isn’t a complete waste when the heavy thump stirs the guy anyway, his friend sitting up with a worse bed head than him.

“It’s the first day of school,” Wooseok repeats, and all he gets from Yuto this time is a long groan, a pillow tossed from his end, and, “Who cares? We’re in college now.”

There’s a pause. An, “Oh. Right.” Yuto crashes back into bed. Wooseok falls flat against the floor. Tired eyes start drooping shut again, and-

“We’re in college now!” Yuto shoots up, wide awake at the sudden realisation, and he almost slips on his own feet as he forces himself up, stumbling over to where Wooseok is sprawled across their carpet. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, Wooseok, wake _up!_ ”

It takes what feels like a million years for Yuto to get Wooseok up, hoisting the boy onto his back, his own body yelling at him in protest from the sudden exertion because neither of them are the type to even function before noon, and- “Remind me again why the hell I let you sign us up for morning classes.”

“Because, dumbass,” Wooseok starts, apparently conscious enough to call Yuto names and come up with excuses, but not enough to get off his poor back before he breaks it. “You’re a working man now, remember?”

Yuto freezes.

“Or did you forget, Coach Adachi?”

“Oh God.”

Yuto shoves Wooseok off, ignoring his friend’s yelp in favour of hurrying over to the calendar that’s pinned above his study table, eyes scanning the dates and- “That starts _today?_ ”

“First day of school,” Wooseok chirps again, more certain of his words now as he bumps his own fist, pats himself on the back. “Knew that was important.”

That only earns him a glare from Yuto, clearly not very pleased with the way Wooseok is handling this, but he knows that he himself is partly to blame too for not keeping track of the dates, for not planning his days better.

“How is this gonna work again?” Yuto has to ask, because they’d gone over their whole routine back when he’d first gotten hired as the school’s temporary baseball coach, but that feels like ages ago, and he still isn’t awake enough to recall it now.

Thankfully, one thing Wooseok has that Yuto doesn’t – though he’d definitely argue that there was a whole lot more than just one – is an outstanding memory.

“Your classes start at eight, mine at ten,” Wooseok begins to explain, pointing out each reminder on the tips of his fingers one-by-one. “You finish by noon, so that’ll give you enough time to get to the school before the younger kids finish. The first round of practice is from one till three, then I’ll drop by to take Kuanlin and Yuqi home, and in the meantime, you’ve got the upper-graders for practice until five. Then, I’ll come back to pick you up when you’re done.”

As if he hasn’t overwhelmed Yuto enough, Wooseok smacks his palms onto his cheeks, throwing a giddy look at him before he finishes off with: “And of course, since we’re college students now, our nights are strictly for sleeping, studying, and partying.” He pauses, thinks on it. “Not necessarily in that order, though.”

Despite himself, Yuto laughs at that, his friend’s nonchalance towards the entire situation putting a bit of ease into his own heart, and he mutters a quick thank you for the helpful rundown.

A brief look at the clock tells him that he’s going to be cutting it very, _very_ close if he doesn’t leave soon, so as he’s about to head out to get ready, he calls out to Wooseok, “Well, let’s just hope a miracle gets us through today before we talk about tonight.”

—

“What are you kids planning to take after school this year?” Changgu asks, a few more minutes to spare before the first period ends, his last round of conversation before he has to start his teaching for the day. “You’re old enough to start extra-curricular activities now, aren’t you?”

There’s a few stray answers here and there, the usual things like extra language classes, a sport or two, and even Kuanlin says, “I’m gonna try out for baseball!”

“Baseball?” Changgu tilts his head, confused, the first time he’s hearing of this. “Weren’t you aiming for basketball?”

Kuanlin nods, looking a little disappointed when he says, “I was, but the basketball coach got transferred, and they couldn’t find anyone to replace him yet.” He perks up quickly though, mouth curving up into an excited grin. “But there’s a new baseball coach! It’s Wooseok-hyung’s friend.”

There’s a snort from his left, and Yuqi is saying, “So, _that’s_ why you’re trying out for baseball?” She makes a point of rolling her eyes slowly, far too dramatic for a ten-year old, really. “Yuto-oppa will probably let you on the team even if you can’t lift a bat.”

“Well, what are _you_ joining then?” Kuanlin sneers at her, turning in his seat for the sole purpose of kicking at her chair.

Yuqi returns the favour, her kick strong enough to have Kuanlin almost toppling over in his seat, and she looks rather smug when she answers, “I’m taking dance classes.”

Changgu cuts in to ask, “Dance classes with Mr. Kim?”

“And the cute oppa who comes to help him sometimes,” Shuhua fake-whispers with a hand cupped over her mouth, earning a giggly little, “Shhh!” and a pinch to the side from Yuqi.

Just like Yuqi had done earlier, Kuanlin drawls out an obnoxious, “So, _that’s_ why you’re taking dance classes?” He hasn’t quite perfected his imitation of her eye-roll just yet, but he’s getting there. “As if that hyung will even look at you when you’re tripping over your two left feet.”

“ _You little-_ ”

“Alrighty!” Changgu claps his hands to get everyone’s attention, and before the twins turn their classroom into a wrestling ring, he decides to put a pause on this conversation for now. “Should we get started on our first lesson then?”

Kuanlin sends a grateful look his way for saving him from his sister’s wrath, while Yuqi makes a show of slamming her books down onto her table, and it’s only Shuhua who dares break the tension to say, “Yes, ssaem, we should.”

Changgu is about to do just that, marker in his hand, already facing the board, when the door bursts open in a way that has the entire class turning their heads towards the boy that comes barrelling in from the hallway, completely out of breath as he yells out, “Sorry, I’m late!”

“It’s my fault!” comes another voice, an equally as breathless man appearing behind the boy, body bent over from running, presumably, because he pants out, “I forgot to set the alarm, and then there was traffic, and we were racing around the whole school like idiots because we couldn’t find this class, _but-_ ”

He finally stands to show his face, and it’s Changgu who loses his breath this time.

“We’re here now.”

 _There it is,_ Changgu thinks to himself. _A miracle…_

_And a new beginning._


	2. new feelings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the next chapter is here!! i actually have an assignment due tomorrow which i should Totally be doing right now and there was meant to be a lot more to this chapter but then i actually wrote it out and it turned out longer than i expected it to so i thought it'd be better to just cut it off here for now, plus i'll be away for a few days this week so i figured i might as well just update it before i go and i thought that we all might need some cheering up after the show today... 
> 
> anyway ! our other main character is finally introduced here and in case it wasn't already obvious from the first chapter, although shinone is the main pairing of this story, it'll focus a lot on the side pairings as well and i do hope you'll all enjoy the other stories too!! apart from one (guess who) all the pairings in this fic are ships that i haven't written before or have only explored a bit in my other fics so i feel like it's gonna be really fun to see how they turn out hehe
> 
> i'm gonna be honest not a Lot of progress happens here and it's still mostly in it's ~introductory~ phase but i promise things will pick up soon!! i hope you all like it either way and i'll be back with another chapter soon <3

“We’re here now.”

“Uh…” Changgu blinks slow, a question beginning to piece together on the tip of his tongue, but he can’t quite persuade it to voice itself. He won’t admit it, but he’s a little too stunned by the handsome man who’s still awkwardly perched in the middle of the classroom entrance, dressed in what he thinks might be loungewear, tall enough for his head to come up just short of the top of the doorframe. “Who… You…”

Yuqi stages a cough, and the small distraction is enough to pull Changgu back to reality, his tunnel vision clearing to remind him that there’s someone else standing there as well. Luckily, he has the right mind to focus on the boy then, crouching down to his eye-level to ask, “Who might you be?”

“My name is Seonho,” he answers, the greeting set with a polite bow and a smile sweet enough to give anyone a toothache, and he offers a sheet of paper to Changgu. “I’m your new student.”

“New student?” Changgu’s brow furrows as he looks over the transfer document that’s handed to him, slightly confused by the news, because as far as he’s concerned, he isn’t expecting any new students. If he was, wouldn’t he have been told about it?

His thoughts are interrupted when the man with Seonho asks, “Is there a problem here?” He stands up even straighter, seeming even taller than he already was, if that was possible. “Did we come to the wrong class?”

“Dad, _stop,_ ” Seonho grumbles through his teeth, elbowing the man’s stomach to keep him quiet, but it only earns him an, “Ow! _What?_ I was just asking,” in return.

 _Dad?_ Changgu risks a glance up at him again, his curious eyes darting away in an instant, but even that is enough for him to see that this man is far too young to be the father of a ten-year old.

He isn’t about to question it, though, especially not with the way the guy is staring him down right then, and Changgu finds himself stuttering over his words when he tries to say, “N-No, there’s no problem. Let me just-” He hurries to check the list of names that’s placed on his own desk, and _ah._

  1. **YOO SEONHO*****



How could Changgu have missed that? The boy’s name is printed in bold right there at the bottom of the page, even starred at the corner to show that he’s a new addition to the group. He supposes he must’ve overlooked it earlier, too eager to be back with his class that he hadn’t realised it at all.

“I am so sorry for the confusion,” Changgu flashes an apologetic look at the both of them. “It’s my mistake. I wasn’t informed that there’d be a new student arriving today, but please, Seonho, you’re more than welcome to come and join us.”

“Thank you!” Seonho bows to him again, and once more, probably relieved that he doesn’t have to go run around to look for another class. Ready to head in, he turns to his father to say, “I’ll see you after school, okay, Dad?”

The man’s face appears to soften at that, and he says, “See you later, kiddo,” as he pinches Seonho’s cheek in a way that has the boy swatting his hand away and whining out another embarrassed, “ _Daaad…_ ”

With a small laugh, he taps a finger on the boy’s forehead, and on a more serious note, he adds, “Be good, you hear?”

“Yes, sir,” Seonho answers with another one of those sugary grins, and despite his ‘I’m-too-old-for-this’ protests just a moment ago, he still gives his father a hug goodbye, and Changgu has to look away from the adorable scene.

“Kuanlinie,” he calls out instead, switching his attention elsewhere before his heart melts into a puddle by his feet. “Can you help set up a table for your new classmate?”

Right away, Kuanlin complies to the request with an enthusiastic, “Sure thing, ssaem!” as he heads to the back of the classroom to get a spare table for Seonho.

Meanwhile, Yuqi takes the initiative to greet Seonho herself, going over to offer a hand to him, and she says, “Come on, Seonho-ya! You can sit with us.”

Seonho is taken aback by the sudden show of friendliness, this funny bug-eyed look forming on his face, and he seems almost wary to accept the helping hand, but Changgu reassures him with, “Don’t worry, Seonho. Yuqi has been our class monitor since the first grade. If anyone’s going to look out for you here, it’s her.”

“Oh, alright then,” Seonho answers sheepishly, letting Yuqi lead him to where Kuanlin had made room for him next to Shuhua, and as soon as he’s properly introduced to the three friends, he feels a lot more at ease.

Seeing his new student settled in, or at least, as settled in as he can be with those three rascals bombarding the poor boy with questions left and right, Changgu turns to where the man is still waiting by the door. For some silly reason that he doesn’t quite feel like confronting just yet, he feels his palms start to sweat before he even begins to speak, the way they did when he had his first interview for this job, the way they didn’t at all when he’d gone on that blind date back then.

“Um, excuse me, Mr…”

“Shinwon,” is all the man says then, waving a casual hand at him, and to Changgu’s surprise, his mouth lifts in what could pass as a quarter, maybe half of a smile. “Just Shinwon is fine.”

“ _Shinwon,_ ” Changgu echoes, and he has to try his best not to smile right back. “Well, Shinwon, I just wanted to ask, will you be free to meet anytime soon?”

Just like Seonho, Shinwon gets that wide-eyed expression plastered across his face as soon as he hears the question, and for the first time since he’d stepped into the room, he actually sounds rather flustered when he sputters out, “I- I’m sorry, you want to meet _me?_ What do you, um- What are we meeting for exactly?”

“A parent-teacher meeting, I mean,” Changgu clarifies, almost shy as he wonders what other kind of meeting Shinwon had thought he was inviting him to. As if to make sure that he isn’t giving him the wrong idea, he’s quick to say, “It’s just a standard procedure for new students, of course. To discuss Seonho’s classes, his extracurricular activities, all that sort of stuff, you know?”

“Right…” It’s Shinwon who’s feeling shy now, hand itching at his ears that are turning redder by the second, a similar shade creeping up his neck as well. “Yeah, uh- _Yes,_ that’s fine. Totally. Definitely. Yeah. I could spare some time when I come by to pick him up later, if that’s cool with you?”

Changgu can’t bite back his smile any longer at this point. “That’s cool with me.”

“ _Cool,_ ” Shinwon repeats once, twice, three times, and again, “Cool. Cool, cool, cool, cool. Later it is, then, Mr…” He shoots a not-so-subtle glance at the nameplate on Changgu’s desk. “Mr. Yeo. I knew that. Okay. I think I’m gonna leave now. You probably need to start teaching anyway, right? So, yeah, okay, I’ll just-”

He bumps into the doorframe as he’s backing out of the classroom, prompting stifled giggles and hidden grins from the students, and to save himself from further embarrassment, Shinwon does what any smart, respectable father would do:

“ _Bye, Seonho-ya! Have a good day! I love you!_ ”

The children’s teasing turns to Seonho long enough for Shinwon to disappear, long enough for Seonho to turn just as red as his father was, long enough for Changgu to convince himself that his heart isn’t racing a million miles a minute, and _ah,_ what is this feeling?

—

Changgu barely manages to push through the first round of classes, still flushed from the morning’s encounter, and no matter how many times he tugs at that suffocating necktie of his or dips his head out the window for some air, it still feels like he can’t quite catch his breath.

Being around the children isn’t exactly the best remedy either, the little trio sending cheeky glances his way every time he stumbles over a word as if they know why he seems so out of it today, and it really doesn’t help that Seonho’s gaze is constantly following him across the classroom, those dark eyes of his that are practically a reflection of Shinwon’s own.

He feels silly, honestly, getting all nervous and giddy this way, as though he was a teenager again, falling for every single person who so much as looked his way. He feels even more ashamed that it had happened in his own classroom, his playing field, and he’d just been knocked straight off his feet like that. And as if that wasn’t enough, of all the people in the world that he could end up being attracted to, it just _had_ to be the parent of one of his students, didn’t it?

It’s pathetic, to say the least.

Changgu practically collapses in relief when the bell rings, marking the end of his lesson and the start of Hongseok’s, and when his friend shows up to take over, he can’t stop himself from crying out, “Oh, Hongseok-hyung, finally, you’re here to save me!”

“I know you like me, Changgu-ya, but that’s a bit dramatic, don’t you think?” Hongseok teases, going over to set his things down on the table, and it’s only once he’s a footstep away from Changgu that he notices the sweat on his forehead. “Hey, wait, are you okay?”

Before Changgu can even open his mouth, Yuqi beats him to it, a snicker behind her tone when she sings out, “ _Changgu-ssaem has a crush!_ ”

“A crush?” Hongseok repeats, eyebrows lifting in surprise, somewhat amused, but then almost immediately, they fall, his eyes scanning the room slowly, before they land on Changgu again, an unsettled glint in the brown of them. “On… _who?_ ”

“It’s not a crush!” Changgu retorts, awfully defensive, then turning to Yuqi with a childish pout that really shouldn’t work for a grown man like himself, he says, “It is _not_ a crush, Yuqi, and if you say one more word about this, I am going to make Kuanlin our class monitor this year.”

Yuqi gasps as if she’d been threatened for her life, and really, with the image of Kuanlin running the class in mind, she might as well have been. But she keeps her mouth sealed after that, and when Changgu is certain that he’s bought her silence, he takes his leave, ignoring Hongseok’s panicked looks and his endless yells of, “ _On who?_ On who, Changgu? Come back here! You’re scaring me!”

In his rattled state, Yuqi’s joking and Hongseok’s misunderstanding still ringing clear in his ears, Changgu isn’t even sure where his feet are taking him until he’s tripping over the arm of a chair and landing face-first into a cushioned seat.

Then he hears, “Looks like someone hasn’t had a very good first day.”

Changgu doesn’t even bother lifting his head to answer Hwitaek. “Gee, how’d you know?”

“Wild guess,” Hwitaek snorts, eyeing the way Changgu is still awkwardly bent over the chair in front of him, looking rather miserable there, honestly. He pulls his legs up onto his own sofa, getting comfortable before he asks, “Do you wanna talk about it?”

His first answer is, _No, actually, I don’t ever want to talk about how I’d made a complete fool of myself in front of my entire class this morning,_ but Changgu has never been one to keep things to himself and he’s hoping that maybe talking it out with Hwitaek will make him feel better.

So, once Changgu manages to sit down properly, legs criss-crossed, face cupped in his palms, staring up at Hwitaek with a frown the way the kids do when they come in to see him, he says, “So, I have a new student-”

“Ugh, hate it when that happens,” Hwitaek cuts in with a groan, feigning distress, but when Changgu doesn’t seem the slightest bit amused by the interruption, he curls in on himself in shame, hiding behind a cushion as he squeaks out, “ _Sorry._ Continue.”

“I have a new student,” Changgu repeats, and as he recalls the scene of Shinwon running into the classroom, hot on Seonho’s heels, his heartbeat starts to pick up again, blood flooding his cheeks. “And, well, um, his father came to drop him off earlier, and, you know, it was nothing, really, but he was just- I don’t know, he was…” He buries his burning face in his hands. “ _God,_ I’m gonna sound so stupid saying this, but he was really cute, okay?”

“ _Huh?_ ”

“No, listen, hyung, he was, like, really, _really_ cute,” Changgu insists, as if convincing Hwitaek of the fact would make this situation any better. “I mean, he was tall, but not _too_ tall like that new nurse you found — Yanan, was it? I met him when I clocked in this morning.”

“Oh, did you?”

“Yeah! He was a bit grumpy at first, but he was nice enough when I said hello.”

“He seems like a good kid, doesn’t he?”

Changgu nods in agreement, then- “ _Okay,_ back to my story. So, this guy; tall, handsome, I’m pretty sure he was wearing PJ’s, but he did say they were rushing, and then, when I asked him to meet me after school, he got this _look_ on his face. You should’ve seen it! It was ador-”

“ _Wait-_ ” Hwitaek makes an incoherent noise, waving his arms around to stop Changgu there, and he sounds confused when he questions, “Why are you meeting him after school?”

“Uh…” Changgu coughs, looks away, pretends he isn’t trying to disappear into his chair right there and then. “For- For a parent-teacher meeting... For new students… The one we always have to do… When there’s new students… Did I mention it’s for new students?”

“Changgu,” Hwitaek starts, beady eyes already narrowing at him, his cushion abandoned to let his arms cross over his chest the way they do when he’s about to launch into a long, long lecture that might as well be a 10-page essay titled ‘What Not To Do With Your Life’ by Lee Hwitaek. “That’s not a thing, that’s never been a thing, and you know that.”

Changgu _knows,_ he does, but what else was he supposed to do? In that moment, with Shinwon standing there like some kind of living artwork, he hadn’t had time to think about what was he doing, what he was saying, let alone whether the meeting he’d invited him to was real or not.

All he knew was that he wanted to see Shinwon again, he _had_ to see Shinwon again, and maybe, once he has, these funny feelings will go away for good.

“I’m not gonna do anything, hyung,” Changgu assures him, and he shouldn’t sound so disappointed when he says it, but he can’t help himself. “I know I _can’t_ do anything.”

He pauses, and he wishes there wasn’t hope in heart when he asks, “Right?”

Hwitaek is silent for a while, like he’s deciding how to answer him, like he’s worried he might say the wrong thing, but his good sense seems to override the possibility of upsetting Changgu, and he says, “I don’t mean to burst your bubble, bud, I really don’t, but… Have you considered the fact that he’s probably already married?”

_Strike one._

“Even if he isn’t married, and he isn’t in any relationships at all right now, there’s still… Ah, how do I say this? I don’t want you to take this the wrong way or anything, okay, but… Not everyone is like us, Changgu. I mean, you can’t say for sure that he even likes men, and you can’t exactly dive into this assuming that he just does, y’know?”

_Strike two._

“If, by chance, he does turn out to be single _and_ into guys, you still have to remember that, at the end of the day, he is your student’s father. If you get into a relationship with him, and for some reason, things don’t end up working out between you two, don’t you think it would put the poor kid in a difficult position?”

 _Strike three,_ and Changgu’s out of the game before it even begins.

Seeing Changgu’s dejected form, Hwitaek feels guilt twist in his chest, but he wants him to understand that he only means well. “I just don’t want to see you get caught up in something that could end up hurting you, Changgu-ya,” he says. “You know that, right?”

“I know,” Changgu forces himself to answer, because despite how much it stings to hear the truth, he needed a voice of reason to pull him out of this fantasy before he does anything stupid, anything he’ll regret. He’s grateful that Hwitaek was willing to do that for him, even though they both know he’s the last person who would want to put Changgu down, so he makes sure to tell him, “Thanks, hyung. I don’t know what I was thinking. It’s not like I even know the guy anyway. I was just…” He shakes his head, musters a smile. “Never mind. Let’s just forget I ever said anything about this, okay?”

Hwitaek nods at that, but anyone could see right through the plastic of Changgu’s smile, so with a bright grin of his own, he offers, “Why don’t you come over to have dinner with Hongseok and I tonight? I’ll ask him to cook up all your favourite dishes, if you want.”

“Dinner with you and my ex-boyfriend?” Changgu hums thoughtfully, fingertip tapping against his chin like he’s apprehensive of the idea, but that smile of his is growing into something mischievous and Hwitaek doesn’t miss it. “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea, actually. Hongseok-hyung might fall for me again…”

That only earns a, “ _Hah!_ ” from Hwitaek, and he mirrors Changgu’s wicked look when he shoots back an unbothered, “Please, Changgu. You and Hongseok ‘dated’ for, like, two weeks when you were in middle school. I think he’ll be just fine.”

Despite his momentary heartbreak, Changgu laughs at that, the bubbly feeling of it lifting his mood in an instant, just enough to remind him that he doesn’t need a miracle when he’s already got everything he needs right here. He’s got his friends, he’s got his kids, he’s got a job he adores, and he isn’t going to risk losing any of that over something that’s probably nothing more than a fleeting infatuation.

That’s what Changgu tells himself, that’s what he has to tell himself if he wants to keep this grin on his face, and because he quite enjoys the company of his best friends, because Hongseok’s cooking sounds a lot better than the takeout dinner he had planned, because he might just need a drink or two to help him forget Shinwon’s pretty eyes after he sees him again this afternoon, he promises Hwitaek, “I’ll see you guys tonight then.”

—

Hyojong can’t stand this.

The Principal is speaking to him, he sees his lips move in a flurry with every word he says, and he’s sure that whatever it is he’s talking about must be important, especially since he’d gone through the trouble of calling Hyojong all the way to his office, but Hyojong can’t focus on a single thing he’s saying for a second because he’s got fucking _Baby Shark_ stuck in his head.

This is all Hyunggu’s fault for introducing that ridiculous song to the kids.

“Mr. Kim, are you even listening to me?”

 _I’m trying,_ Hyojong wishes he could say, but instead, it comes out as, “Of course, sir. I hear you, and I completely understand what you’re saying. Again, I am so sorry for everything. I assure you, it won’t happen again.”

It’s a safe enough answer, one that he’s certain could be used in any situation like this, simply because he’s been in this situation far too many times now, and every single time, he’s managed to get off the hook with the exact same lines.

But it doesn’t seem to be working this time around, because unlike how he usually just accepts Hyojong’s apology with a tired nod and a dismissive wave of his hand, the Principal actually asks him, “How many times have you told me that ‘it won’t happen again’, only to let it happen yet again right after that?”

_Well._

“We are all aware of your home situation, Mr. Kim,” he continues, in that fake-polite tone people use to disguise their exasperation, but even that isn’t quite enough to hide the frown that paints the man’s face. “And as you know, we’ve done our best to accommodate you, yet you don’t seem to be putting in any effort to make the most of your circumstances. I thought that you would at least try to make a good start for this new school year, but I have to say, I was rather disappointed when you were tardy again this morning.”

Hyojong just barely turns his laugh into a cough, and he hates that even when he’s getting chewed out like this, his career quite literally on the line, all he can think about is how his babies would crack up at the word ‘tardy’. Even _he_ finds the word hilarious.

As much as he wants to spend his time giggling over a funny word, he has a job to save and a class to get to, so he’s about to spit out another generic excuse, maybe throw in a desperate look or two to be sure, but before he can, someone is saying, “That’s actually my fault.”

_What?_

“Oh, Mr. Jo, I didn’t see you come in,” the Principal says, looking past Hyojong to greet whoever it is at the door, and Hyojong does the same, wondering who this person is and why it is that they feel like they’re at fault for what’s clearly his own mistake.

“Sorry about that, sir,” this Mr. Jo replies with a sheepish duck of his head, and Hyojong doesn’t know why he seems familiar to him. “I knocked, but no one answered, so I opened the door, and I sort of overheard your conversation… I’m sorry if I’m overstepping here, but I just wanted to say that the reason Mr. Kim was late this morning was because I’d accidentally bumped into him in the hallway.”

Hyojong’s lips part in a silent gasp when it hits him, his mind bringing him back to the person he’d knocked into on his way to the office earlier today, but-

“I was on my way to the break room, and I wasn’t looking where I was going, so I ended up hitting Mr. Kim,” Mr. Jo explains, so earnest that even Hyojong is swayed by his words when he knows for a fact that it was he himself who had been the cause of their collision and not this guy.

His gaze flickers over to Hyojong for the briefest moment, eyes brightening in a different light, and for some reason, there’s something in that look that makes Hyojong feel things he hasn’t felt in a long time.

With his cool eyes still on Hyojong, almost as if he’s daring him to stop him, Mr. Jo says, “He was rushing, but he insisted on helping me up, even went out of his way to carry all my things to the break room, and I hadn’t realised that I’d taken up so much of his time until I heard the bell.”

He turns back to the Principal, his cheeks lifting with a warm smile, and only a fool would deny him when he says, “So, I really hope you understand and I would appreciate it if you could reconsider any penalties you had for Mr. Kim.”

And like the sucker he is, the Principal caves in with a big nod, falling for Mr. Jo’s sob story so easily that Hyojong wonders whether he should try the innocent puppy act too the next time he lands himself in a sitch like this.

There’s another round of apologies, another round of nods, and even a, “Mr. Kim, you truly have such a kind soul,” that Hyojong can only laugh off because he’s still struggling not to dance to the inane beat of Baby Shark.

It’s only once he’s stepped outside of the tiny office that he feels like he can breathe easy again, at least until- “You’re welcome.”

Hyojong glances over at Mr. Jo, at the expectant look on his face, as if he’s waiting for Hyojong to thank him for what he did, but all he says is, “I didn’t ask you to lie for me.”

“Would you rather have lost your job?” he counters, this obnoxious tilt to his question that Hyojong can only read as gall. It’s unnerving, but in a way that has Hyojong eager to push back, to answer, “Would you be willing to lose yours if he finds out the truth?”

There’s a moment of uncertainty, like Mr. Jo hadn’t considered that, but as quickly as it had come, his doubt disappears, and he tells Hyojong, “I’ll keep it a secret if you will.” He holds out a hand. “Deal?”

Again, there’s that spark behind his stare, taunting him, challenging him, and just like the Principal, Hyojong can’t find the will to say no to this man.

“Deal,” Hyojong agrees, shaking his hand in his own, and because he isn’t a complete jerk, he does say, “And thanks, anyway.”

Mr. Jo only offers a jerk of his chin in acknowledgement, then, with a lopsided grin, he points at the cameras set into the corners of the hallways. “Let’s just hope he doesn’t decide to check the security tapes.”

They both laugh at that, any tension between them falling away with every shared chuckle, and Mr. Jo is the first to introduce himself with, “I’m Jinho, by the way.”

Hyojong only gets as far as, “I’m Hyo-” before Jinho is saying, “I know.”

With an awkward bare of his teeth, Jinho admits, “I asked Hwitaek about you this morning, after we bumped into each other, because I wanted to apologise to you but I didn’t know who you were.”

“Hwitaek, huh?” Hyojong arches a curious eyebrow at him. “I hope he didn’t say anything bad about me.”

“Depends what you consider bad,” Jinho says, lifting an indifferent shoulder, and when he sees Hyojong’s face start to pale, he bursts out in another laugh that makes his eyes crinkle up at the corners in a way that has blood rushing right back to Hyojong’s cheeks. “I’m just kidding. He just told me what classes you teach-”

The mention of classes reminds Hyojong that he’s got one coming up and he stops Jinho for a second to say, “Speaking of, walk with me to my next class?”

Hyojong doesn’t give Jinho a chance to answer, nor a moment to decide whether or not he wants to tag along, simply picking up his pace in whichever direction he’s headed in and Jinho doesn’t know why, but he feels like he wants to follow him.

“So, what else did Hui-hyung say?” Hyojong asks then, looking at Jinho over his shoulder, and when he finds Jinho blinking back at him with wide eyes, he lets out a small snort. “What, never heard anyone call him ‘Hui’? It’s just a nickname. No big deal.”

“Well, that, and-” Jinho straightens his back, puffs his chest out, tries his absolute best to stare Hyojong down, but anyone who saw them would say it isn’t working out all too well for him there. “If Hwitaek is your hyung, then so am I.”

The sudden declaration, or rather how serious Jinho is about it, seems to amuse Hyojong more than it should, and instead of arguing with him on the matter the way he did when he’d first met Hwitaek — _“You’re not even a whole year older than me!” “Nine months is more than enough, Hyojong!”_ — all he says this time is, “Okay then, Jinho-hyung.”

Jinho seems pleased at the sound of that, a happy hum thrumming in the back of his throat as he curls back into a relaxed stance, and Hyojong almost, _almost_ voices out how Jinho resembles a cat right then. He has a feeling the elder might just throw a book in his face for saying something so nonsensical though, so he keeps it to himself, swallowing a smile as he turns away.

“You know, I’m a little surprised that you’re younger than me,” Jinho says then, taking extra steps to keep up with Hyojong, the route they’re taking seeming endless, and where is this class of his anyway?

Hyojong breathes out a heavy sigh. “And here I was, thinking that I could still pass for 22…” He points at the smooth skin of his forehead, pulls a sour face. “It’s the wrinkles, isn’t it?”

“Surprisingly, no,” Jinho laughs, and he doesn’t think before he says, “It’s the 4-year olds that you have, actually.”

Hyojong stops.

As if realising his mistake, Jinho bites his tongue.

He’s unsure if he’s allowed to bring up the topic of Hyojong’s family, especially since they’re essentially strangers to each other, but Hyojong _had_ asked what he and Hwitaek spoke about, after all, so he thinks he owes it to the guy to at least tell him, “Um, Hwitaek mentioned you had kids, so I just assumed… I’m sorry if I wasn’t supposed to know that, and I- I completely get it if you don’t want to talk about it-”

“ _What?_ ” Hyojong sounds offended. He turns on Jinho. Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh- “Me? Not wanting to talk about my kids? What are you, insane?”

Jinho can only manage a, “I'm sorry?”

“Hyung, let me tell you something, okay? I have been _dying_ to talk to someone about my kids the whole day!” Hyojong starts walking again, a skip in his step like he hadn’t just scared the life out of Jinho a split-second ago. “It was their first day back in daycare today, and I’m gonna be honest with you, I was _so_ close to taking a sick day just so I could spend the day with them. And I know I should get used to letting them go now that they’re growing older, but-”

His eyes start to water at the brim, and he doesn’t even bother blinking his near-tears away as he cries out, “They’re still my _babies,_ you know? They’re everything to me, and if I didn’t need the money, I’d just quit this job so I could raise them at home, but at the same time, I love what I do here, and it’s so _hard_ to balance everything, and the Principal is definitely gonna keep a sharper eye on me this year after what happened this morning, because what if he _does_ check the security tapes, and oh my God, do you think he would fire you too-”

Hyojong’s rambling is cut off by Jinho’s hand pressed over his mouth, the elder’s attempt at silencing him, except it’s Jinho who’s at a loss for words now, his tongue tied as his brain tries to make sense of the tingly feeling that Hyojong’s lips leave against his skin, and-

“Uncle Hyojong?”

The sound of his name breaks Hyojong out of his daze, jumping away from Jinho only to realise that – despite his subtle attempts of turning the same corners over again to make their time together last as long as it possibly could – they’d actually made it to his classroom. Not only that, but they were surrounded by his students, and in his panic, he punches Seonho’s shoulder. “I told you, you’re supposed to call me ‘ssaem’ in school, kid.”

“Ouch.” Seonho rubs his shoulder, gives him a toothy grin. “Sorry, _Hyojong-ssaem._ ” His gaze slides over to Jinho, curious, before it comes back to Hyojong, even more curious. “What were you two doing?”

“It’s adult business,” Hyojong huffs. Then, hearing how that might come across the wrong way, even to a group of children, he corrects himself, “ _I mean,_ it’s none of your business.” When Seonho tries to press him on it further, he points a sharp finger at him. “Don’t make me call your father, Yoo Seonho.”

The full name card shuts him up, and with a, “Now, shoo!” Hyojong manages to chase the kids back into the classroom, making sure the door is closed before he turns back to Jinho.

“Um…”

“It was nice meeting you, Hyojong,” Jinho says then, saving him the embarrassment of having to address what had happened earlier, and he offers an easy smile to him. “It’s a shame we had to literally run into each other for that to happen, but if you ever need anyone to talk you out of a bad situation with the Principal again, you know where to find me.”

“I don’t, actually,” Hyojong blurts out before Jinho can leave, because they’d been so busy talking about him, him, him, that he hadn’t even thought to ask what Jinho teaches.

Jinho’s smile widens, thumb jerking towards a hallway to his left, the same hallway where they’d first bumped into each other. “Music room,” he tells Hyojong, and as he’s walking away, he says, “If I’m not there, then I guess I’ll just see you around sometime.”

“I’ll see you around,” Hyojong says back, and he won’t admit it just yet, not to himself, not to Jinho, not even to his kids, but he really does hope that he’ll see Jinho again.

—

If anyone ever needed to see a living manifestation of anxiety and dread, with a side of immense regret, Changgu in the last period of the day would be exactly what they were looking for.

He can’t decide whether it was smart of him to wrap up his teaching early today, because although the extra time gives him the much needed opportunity to prepare himself before he faces Shinwon again, all the empty waiting and the torturous tick of the clock is absolutely _killing_ him.

“Guys, do you think Changgu-ssaem is alright?”

It’s Seonho who asks it, eyes darting between his friends and where Changgu is pacing back and forth across the room, his whisper filled with a genuine concern that definitely isn’t there when Yuqi answers, “He’s just freaking out because of your-”

“ _Yuqi._ ”

Reminded of Changgu’s earlier warning, and the fact that he’s quite literally shooting daggers at her right then, the girl gulps down the end of her sentence, deciding that they should maybe opt for a different course of conversation. She looks to Kuanlin for help, her brother immediately understanding what she’s asking of him with a single glance.

He turns to Seonho. “Hey, how come you called Hyojong-ssaem ‘Uncle’ just now?”

“He’s my dad’s best friend,” is Seonho’s reply, momentarily distracted from worrying over Changgu, and Changgu is grateful for it. “I’ve known him since I was... Six, I think? He used to live with us for a little while when we were back in the city, and after he moved out here, he always said that it’d be nice if we could come stay here someday too.”

That gets Changgu’s attention, and he doesn’t mean to eavesdrop, of course not, but he finds himself leaning in towards them when the chit-chat picks up, Yuqi wondering, “So, wait, are you guys living with him now too?”

“No, Dad and I have our own place,” Seonho clarifies. “Uncle Hyojong has three kids, and they’re getting bigger now, so I suppose they need their own space.”

It’s Shuhua’s turn to ask a question, the girl eager to know, “So, it’s true that those toddlers he brings to his dance classes are really his own kids?”

“Yup!” Seonho perks up at the mention of them, nodding his head with a proud beam on his face, as though he was talking about _his_ children. “I helped Dad and Uncle Hyojongie raise the triplets since they were babies, so I guess you could say I’m like their big brother, in a way.”

Now, Changgu doesn’t want to get his hopes up like some kind of fool, but it’s impossible not to notice how Seonho only brings up Shinwon and Hyojong, no mention of a mother or any other parental figure in his life, and-

 _No._ No. He can’t do this. He refuses to do this. He’d already decided that he wouldn’t act on this misplaced crush of his, that he’d just get through this one meeting for the sake of it, and that would be that.

(There’s also the fact that he’s a little scared Hwitaek might appear out of nowhere to give him a whack on the head _and_ take away his dinner if he goes back on his word, but no one needs to know that.)

Changgu takes a step back, tunes out the children’s fascinating discussion on what it was like to live with someone as ‘super-duper cool’ as Hyojong, and as if hearing his wordless plea for this day to just be over already, the final bell rings out like a godsend.

“See you all tomorrow! Get home safely, kids! Make sure you have a good lunch, alright? All the best on your tryouts, Kuanlinie! Don’t forget to do the homework for Hongseok-ssaem’s class!”

His arm is tired from the never-ending waving and his cheeks ache from grinning so hard, but since he isn’t having the best day himself, the least Changgu could do is send his students off with well wishes so that they’ll have a better day than him. He goes at it until they’ve all left the classroom, all but Seonho, who’s waiting patiently at his own desk, thumbs twiddling together as he waits for his father to show up.

It looks like he wants to say something, like he’s wanted to say something all day, really, but Changgu doesn’t want to force it out of him, so like Seonho, he just waits and waits and wait-

“Ssaem?”

“Yes, Seonho?”

The boy hesitates, and he seems a lot more withdrawn when he’s on his own, no lively friends to rile him up, to give him courage to speak clear. But as if he’s made some kind of resolution to say whatever it is that’s on his mind, he takes a deep breath, then- “Do you hate my dad?”

Wait, _what?_

“Why would you think that?” Changgu asks, because he truly doesn’t know where he’d gotten that idea from. If anything, he thought that Seonho would think he felt the opposite towards Shinwon. He’d been getting all worked up over the fear that Seonho might’ve picked up on his interest in his father, but then the kid says _this?_

Seonho looks even more uncomfortable now, like he’s afraid that he’s upset Changgu with what he’d said, and he hurries to explain himself. “Well, first, we came late, and Dad was just blabbering about how he missed the alarm, then he was trying to give you a hard time about me being your new student, and he was even being weird about the meeting you set up, and- and-”

He sucks in another sharp breath. “I don’t know if this is how you normally act, since I haven’t known you very long, but you seem a bit tense and you’ve been antsy all day, so I was just wondering if it’s because you don’t like my dad and you don’t want to meet him later-”

“Whoa there, buddy,” Changgu holds his hands up to stop him before the boy spirals any further, and he goes over to Seonho with slow steps, trying to keep as calm as he can. “How about we take a breather first, huh?”

Following Changgu’s guide, Seonho manages to steady his breathing, tiredly slumping against his table once he has, like all his pent-up nerves over the course of the day had just drained straight out of him.

“I don’t hate your dad,” Changgu starts, perching himself on the chair in front of Seonho, far enough to give him the space he needs, close enough to let him know that he’s there. “I’ve dealt with tons of parents before, and you’d be surprised to see how much worse some of them are compared to your father. Your dad was actually one of the better ones, you know.” He quirks a smile, pretends to whisper, “Minus the fact that he turned up to your first day in pyjama pants.”

That scores a laugh from Seonho, albeit a small one, and Changgu decides it’s safe to approach him again, scooting closer to say, “I’m sorry if I made you worry, Seonho-ya. You’re right, I’m not usually this… _restless,_ but I promise you that it’s not because of your father at all.”

 _Liar,_ a voice in his head hisses at him immediately, but he ignores it with the excuse that it’s only a white lie, that it’s in everyone’s best interests if no one else figures out how Changgu really feels about Shinwon, at least until he’s learnt to move on from this.

“So, you’re okay with meeting him?” Seonho asks, just to be sure, and as soon as Changgu nods a yes, the boy lets out a breath of relief. “That’s good, because he’s already here.”

Changgu stands, spinning around so quickly that he makes himself dizzy, and when his eyes find Shinwon, the man all dressed up this time, his dashing face even clearer now that his hair is pushed back neatly, there’s no way he can convince himself that his heart isn’t racing a million miles a minute, and _ah,_ he thinks he likes this feeling.

 

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos are always appreciated ^__^ 
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/ao3kino) | [curious cat](https://curiouscat.me/ao3kino)


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